Back when I was at high school (to make some
certain people feel old that was a mere six years ago), we
had a French exchange student called Alan. It sounds terrible
but we used to exploit him for his crepe-making abilities.

I'd never had proper
home-made deep-dish pizza until recently. I think I had tried
some terrible fast-food version at some point but the idea of
eating what is essentially a pie filled with cheese and
processed meats frightened me.

My paternal grandparents retired to a
400-year-old stone house in the south of France.
Every three to
five years from the age of 8 Mum and Dad packed us all off
and we took a family holiday there for a few weeks to see the
family.